


Please, No More Brittany

by VYCanisMajoris



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Prosthesis, Soulmates, Telepathy, Tony Stark's Gauntlet is a Prosthetic, Young T'Challa, young Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 04:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VYCanisMajoris/pseuds/VYCanisMajoris
Summary: For Tumblr Prompt:So like I've never actually sent a prompt to anyone before and I don't know if this is the right place to do it but imma just leave this here because your writing is fantabulous: Ironpanther with the soulmate AU where the secondary voice in your head is the voice of your soulmate. Can't you just imagine Tony hearing T'challas voice trying to talk him out of doing stupid things?? and T'challa hearing Tony making jokes & wisecracks to cheer him up when he's feeling down and cuteness??





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to Marvel Entertainment. Any writing is completely fan-made and I make no profit from this writing.

_Please,_ T’Challa thinks desperately, staring down at a terrifying mass of numbers, _Please stop._

**I can’t!**  The smooth voice in his head replies, sounding entirely too giddy for his liking. **You know how tough it is to get a song out of your head.**

_At least the songs that stick in mine are actually good._

**How dare you say that! Or, well, think it, I guess, whatever! Brittany Spear’s Toxic is a song you should respect.**

_I could respect it if I were not working on something of great importance,_ T’Challa sends back, focusing his gaze on the work scattered across his bed. Math isn’t the most fun to do, though he can enjoy it at times. This time, however, he cannot, since he’s been doing the stack of problems for hours without break. He would’ve had them finished earlier, if his soulmate wasn’t thinking a continuous loop of this “Toxic” song, and not even the entire song! Just the starting screeches, over and over. 

**… Sorry,** his soulmate replies in a softer tone, sending a feeling of guilt to T’Challa. **It’s hard to make it stop, in my head.**

T’Challa knows that feeling all too well. _It is fine, Anthony._

**Don’t start something you can’t finish, Kit-Kat.**

T’Challa smiles at that. His soulmate, for some reason, hates being called Anthony by anyone, though he’s replied to T’Challa calling him that with nicknames and affectionate ribbing. _Fine, fine. Just… think something entertaining?_

Anthony takes that as a challenge, and T’Challa spends the next hour listening to an array of random pop and rock songs his soulmate favours, smiling all the while. He finishes the work, and piles it up into a stack the size of Shuri. 

**What’s the math for?** His soulmate breaks up the continuous music to ask T’Challa. _My studies,_ T'Challa sends back.

**They gave you all that for some studying?** Anthony thinks, flabbergasted. 

T’Challa chuckles as he sends back, _I do not excel at math, so I need the practice. Like you, with literature._

**Hey! I understand literature just fine.**

_As long as it is about the knights of the round table._

**That’s the only good literature.**

_So you say._

**So I know.**

T’Challa smiles, letting out a huffing laugh. He knows several things about his soulmate, his love for music, mathematics, cooking with his mother, and the most glaring, the tales of King Arthur. 

_Stop being so amused. I can feel you smiling._

T’Challa conveys a shrug as best he can with a thought, and laughs as his soulmate replies with mock outrage. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_That isn’t a good idea._

**Be quiet,** Tony sends back, staring at the gauntlet in front of him. He’s spent hours working on this and nothing else, not taking breaks to eat or sleep. He should probably take a nap now, try to regain some energy and organization in his head, but he won’t. 

_It will be here when you get back._

**Might not.** Obie could come down, see the gauntlet, and take it away, not bothering to give Tony an ounce of credit before giving it to the company to start production. Besides, this isn’t for production. Sure, Tony will make other models for the public, but this one specifically? It’s his. 

_Bring it with you, hide it in your closet._

**I’ve spent too much time in the closet to condemn my beloved creation there too,** Tony thinks back with a giggle. The giggle continues for several minutes, and Tony starts to think that maybe he should take a break. 

_As I told you._

**You’re eavesdropping. Super uncool.**

_You are projecting your thoughts at a very loud volume that I cannot ignore._

**Sorry,** Tony thinks back meekly. His soulmate has a hefty workload as well, studying hard, sparring, and other princely duties he won’t disclose with Tony, no matter how many questions Tony asks, though it could be because Tony hasn’t stopped calling him King Cat. 

_It is not a problem; it is reassuring to know that you have not blown yourself up._

**I won’t, you worrywart.**

T’Challa has spent the last two hours hounding Tony to stop, eat, and go to bed. It’s starting to grate on him, and he’s really wishing he had the energy to send back another hour of Cotton Eyed Joe, but that song makes him go crazy too. Tony shakes his thoughts, and his soulmate's, from his mind, clearing it as best he can, but his soulmate persists. 

_Why now? You can take a break, can’t you?_

Tony’s spent too much time and energy on this to quit now, and, though he won’t let his soulmate know, he’s afraid, afraid of failure. He’s been planning, designing, and working on this for weeks, and the fear of it all going to waste is weighing on him. He’s not sure that he’ll still have the courage to test it later on. 

Reaching out with a shaking left hand, Tony picks up the gauntlet. He slides it on the stump where his right forearm used to be, before the crash that took his mom and Howard, and gasps as it closes over his stump. 

_Are you alright? Anthony?_ His soulmate breaks through the haze in Tony’s head, frantic and desperate. 

**It works.** Tony turns the prosthetic, watching as the fingers move without him forcing the commands, without even needing to think. **It works.**

The relief and joy from his soulmate pulses through Tony’s head, and he smiles. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“And this,” the Wasp says with a wide gesture toward the Archives, “Is the end of our tour! I hope you liked it!” She finishes with a wide, gleeful smile, one that T’Challa has to return. 

"It was enjoyable, thank you.” 

“Good,” Janet continues, hooking elbows with T’Challa, “Cause it isn’t over!” 

"But, you just said it was the end-” 

"Of the official one that Mr. Fury says I have to be professional on. This new one is the unofficial one! Which is a ton more fun than the professional one. Let’s go!” She pulls T’Challa with her, and he’s surprised at the strength in someone so small. 

He follows her quick pace, and sends out a small, _Are you there?_ , to his soulmate, who, to his disappointment, doesn’t respond. His soulmate hasn’t replied to any of T’Challa’s thoughts in the past two days, when he usually sends back a bit of sarcasm and affection in seconds. He could be in an engineering binge, but T’Challa would have received some form of thought, some bit of coding or mathematics during that time. 

"This is Club A! We hang out here, drink, it’s soda,” Janet adds on, “So don’t worry about being caught with anything, and people dance, or play pool by themself." 

“How can one play pool by themself?” 

“It’s a tough skill to learn, but come on!” Janet tightens her grip, and T’Challa knows that she and Shuri would have a lot of fun carting T’Challa around against his will. 

“This is the hospital,” Janet gestures toward a large, white building, and T’Challa frowns, “You require a hospital on campus?” 

“We get a lot of weird injuries on the job that normal ones can’t handle. Like Tony, who went headfirst into a pile of glittery tentacles, but don’t worry!” She continues quickly, “He’s fine, and so is everyone who goes to the hospital. They’ve got a lot of weird things in there that make you better that other hospitals don’t have.” 

“Wait,” T’Challa holds up a hand, and Janet stops the flow of her words. He asks, “Tony?” 

“Yep,” Janet nods quickly, resembling a bobble-head. “Tony Stark.” 

“Anthony?” T’Challa asks, heart starting to race. The injury explains why Anthony didn’t reply to his thoughts, and if his soulmate is here on campus, T’Challa could finally meet him in person. 

“Yes,” she says slowly, raising a brow. 

“Can I meet him?” 

“Sure,” Janet nods, “Come on.” She doesn’t need to pull T’Challa, he strides along beside her, holding back a wide smile that would make him look crazy in their current environment. 

“Any reason why you want to meet Tony beside the usual ones?” 

“What are the usual ones?” 

“You know,” Janet lists off on her fingers, “He’s super smart, rich, charming, cute, amazing… there’s a lot of reasons." 

T’Challa frowns, a cold sweat breaking out across his body as he asks, “You and he are…?" 

“Besties,” Janet grins, “I’m not dating him, though we’d break the internet, and have, with our cute selfies. No, I’m dating Natasha, the Black Widow. You’ll meet her later, she’s awesome.” 

T’Challa nods, heart slowing down. He’s not sure he could compete with Janet for Tony’s heart, though he would try if needed, but she looks like a fearsome opponent. Janet pulls him into a tall building marked by a single “A”, saying, “This is the dorm, which is super awesome, and it’s good we’re going here, cause now I can show you your room, too.” 

T’Challa nods as she pulls him through the lobby, not stopping as she calls out greetings to other students who watch them with curious eyes. She keeps up a running commentary, pointing out different students’ rooms while telling him about who is rooming with who. He asks, “Am I rooming with another?" 

“Ahh…” Janet pauses, thinking, before shaking her head, “I have no idea, actually. Mr. Fury didn’t tell me, but you’ll know when you go in. Anywho,” she slows to a stop outside one door, “This is Tony’s." 

She knocks on the door, and T’Challa’s heart starts its race once more. He wipes his palms against his thighs, making Janet giggle. At the continued lack of response, Janet knocks again, harder this time, then several more times. 

“Tony’s probably super sleepy from the hospital’s drugs,” she tells him, keeping up her loud knocking. 

**The hell? If it’s Cap makin me do another drill, I’ll make a thousand robots outta spite,** is whispered into T’Challa’s head, and a smile crosses his face at the soft slur of his soulmate’s thoughts. 

The door swings open, and Anthony leans into view, head and torso wrapped with white bandages. His prosthetic isn’t on, T’Challa knows that Anthony sleeps with it off to rest his stump, and he rubs the skin with his free hand. 

_Absolutely beautiful_ , T’Challa thinks, staring at him. 

Anthony startles at the thought, and his eyes widen as he catches sight of T’Challa, thinking back, **Fuck, you’re hot.**

Anthony flushes a pretty red that makes T’Challa smile, and says desperately, “Please tell me you didn’t get that thought.” 

"I did,” T’Challa replies, smile widening. “But I'm glad you like how I look.” 

Janet looks between the two, eyes wide, and says, “Are you two…?” She covers her mouth, dampening a squeal, and runs off, pulling a phone out of her pants’ pocket as she does so. 

“Don’t worry about Jan,” Anthony says, eyes still on T’Challa as he smiles a sheepish grin, “She’s just going to tell everyone about us.” 

“That is good.” T’Challa replies, reaching out to take Anthony’s hand, “It will explain to everyone why I may zone out at times, with your thoughts confusing me.” 

“They aren’t confusing,” Anthony steps closer to T’Challa, “Just interesting, and require your constant attention.” 

“Of course, how could I be confused by you wondering about the final velocity of a yam thrown out of a four-story window?” 

“And you wondering how long it would take Shuri to find you hiding in a kitchen cupboard?” 

“Completely sound,” T’Challa replies, leaning in close to Anthony, “But I will have a lot more to think about now.” 

“I hope you do,” Anthony smiles, and T’Challa crosses the space between them, finally kissing his soulmate. 

His heart races as sparks burst where their lips meet, and T’Challa smiles into the kiss, sending along a simple thought, one that Anthony returns with special vigor as he pulls T’Challa into his dorm, shutting the door behind them. 


End file.
